


One Month

by CPuff



Category: Dude That's My Ghost!
Genre: Abandonment, Billy is actually a pretty nice guy, Bromance, Ectofeature if you want it to be, Existential Angst, Freak Outs, Freezers suck, Gen, It's not gay if he's dead!, Loneliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 04:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4124865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CPuff/pseuds/CPuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hey, remember that time Billy got stuck in the freezer for an entire month?</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Month

It had gotten to the point where Billy was seriously wondering if ice cream was even worth it. If someone had asked him a month ago if getting trapped in a box was a risk worth taking for a peanut swirl he would have answered 'yes' in a heartbeat. So to speak. But now, after actually climbing into the freezer and getting stuck, he was following a very dangerous line of thought. That just maybe, ice cream was not worth getting frozen for, for almost four weeks. If he wanted to go on with his afterlife with a love for ice cream intact, he was going to need to take the idea of escaping far more seriously.

When he had first found himself stuck, he had not really worried about it too much. It was cold, which sucked, but he had all the frozen deserts he could eat and no-one there to tell him to stop. But once he had run out, he very quickly realised that apart from eating, there was little else to do in a tiny box. For some reason, he was completely unable to phase through the freezer's door. Whether this was because of how it was built, or if it had to do with the cold affecting the ectoplasm he was made of Billy had no idea. All he knew was he could not pass though the door, could not push it open from the inside, and he felt unnaturally stiff and sluggish to move so he could not find some kind of crack or hole to slip through to the outside.

At first, he spent a lot of his time crying and complaining at the top of his voice, hoping that perhaps the freezer would get so annoyed with him it might eject him on its own. The inanimate object refused to cooperate however, and eventually Billy got bored of throwing a tantrum no-one was listening to.

When crying did not work, he switched tactics and tried his best to get the attention of anyone outside. He tried calling out for Spencer first, of course, but he never heard a reply. Billy was pretty much a 100% certain this was because Spencer could not hear him. They hadn't had any fights lately and he could not think of any reason why Spencer would ignore him and let him sit in a boring freezer for more than a week. So either the freezer door was sound proofed somehow, or just as he could not phase through it, his voice could not be heard through the door either.

Whatever the reason, calling for help and making noise got him no results. With crying and being loud and annoying out of the way, Billy did what he usually did when he was alone and bored. He sang his own songs to amuse himself. At first he simply stuck to some of his personal favourites, but as time drew on he eventually had to keep himself busy by making a game out of it. He tried to sing each of his songs in order of release date. This had actually kept him occupied for a good while, as he sometimes forgot when a song had officially been released and when it had been released as a mix or a re-recording.

Eventually though, even this game ran its course and he was bored and lonely once again. Billy did not like being lonely. It was a foreign but not nearly foreign enough emotion, and he usually did his very best to forget the feeling altogether. But with days dragging on and with no-one else to talk to and nothing else to do except whine about the cold, it was getting very hard to ignore the fact that being by himself really sucked. And he wanted to tell someone how much the feeling sucked, and there was no-one there to complain to. It was awful, and the longer time went on, the closer the loneliness started to get to a more honest sadness. And _that_ was just unacceptable. Billy Joe Cobra may be a drama-queen, a crybaby and perhaps even a whiner, but he was _not_ a gloomy or miserable person. Especially if there was no-one else there to milk sympathy from.

As he sat and tried to think of a way to get himself out, Billy noticed the rattle of the ice-maker had been making noise more and more often over the past day or so. He tried calling to whoever was there, but this was just as successful as it was the first time. So instead, he focused on the ice machine itself. It seemed pretty simple. Water came in through a pipe, got put in the tray, the tray froze, the ice got dumped into a bin, and then when someone pushed the button ice cubes fell out. Once he figured this out the rest of the plan was pretty easy to put together.

The first thing he did was kick out all of the ice from the tray. Then, forcing frozen limbs to bend and pool, Billy squeezed himself into it instead. As soon as the machine felt the tray was full, a flash of warmth short through it before Billy felt himself get shaken loose and he was tumbling down the chute to the ice bin.

The ice bin was not much better than the freezer. It was probably worse, being smaller and full of pointy ice cubes that of course decided to poke and bundle up in the most uncomfortable places. However, hoping it was just one last step before he could finally get out of the stupid prison he had put himself in, Billy could suck it up and force himself to bear with it. It took much longer than he would have liked, but the next day he was jolted by the ice shaking as someone pushed the button on the outside.

Billy shoved and kicked any ice cubes in his way as if they were intentionally were trying to stop him. He reached the final chute where the ice would drop out and into whatever was held up against the ice maker. He didn't waste a single second as he rammed into the small space and squeezed his way through it. For a moment he got stuck and almost panicked, especially with the pressure of building ice right behind him. In the end though, this turned out to be exactly what he needed as the ice gave him the extra push and he, the ice, and pretty much everything else in the freezer burst out of the ice machine in a miniature avalanche onto the kitchen floor.

Billy untangled himself from the mess, shaking cubes from his jacket sleeves and trying to dislodge some from his ears. He only half registered the pathetic whines of Hugh, a tragic victim of the avalanche, who now lay buried in ice and frost, his hand still gripping a glass of orange juice as if for dear life.

Billy shook himself, twisted his torso like a towel, and cracked both arms like a pair of whips as he tried to shake off cold and get some feeling back into his fingers. The kitchen was warm. Warmer than he ever remembered it being. Sun was pouring in through the window and by the looks of things, it was late afternoon and slowly wrapping up what must have been a pretty hot day. Everything, apart from the freezer that was, was exactly as it had always been.

Billy raised his arms out as he mocked taking a deep breath, the best he could do as a ghost. He grinned and puffed out his chest to no-one in particular.

“Oh yeah! Fear not you gorgeous hunk of world, you! Your best and most important son is free and walking your surface again! Everyone relax! No more crying! I know it must've been hard without me around.”

He stopped, beaming at the room around him. The room and the buried Hugh, however, failed to shower him with praise and affection though. He sulked, crossing his arms. This barely lasted a second, though, as he remembered someone who _would_ give him the attention he was looking for. Especially after not hanging out for what felt like ages.

He flew out the kitchen for the elevator, swooping and swirling more than he needed to. Cold and icy limbs warmed, defrosted, and felt springy and energetic again. The clothes he wore felt once again light and airy. His movements free and unbound by any laws of physics or gravity. It just felt so _good_ . He realised he had almost gotten _use_ to feeling like a giant block of ice after all this time. As he came to a stop in the elevator and pressed the button for Spencer and his' room, he briefly wondered if there was a way to break the fridge enough so that even Hugh would not be able to fix it, or turn it into something even worse.

The thought did not last long as he focused instead of the rising elevator, bouncing eagerly on his heels as he tried to picture what Spencer's reaction would be when he came bursting into the room. No doubt his best bro must have been the most bored person who had ever existed while the great BJC was not around to keep him company. Maybe he would be so happy to see Billy he would buy him that pair of limited edition Doc Martens Billy had been bugging him about for a few months now. Maybe he'd give Billy full rights to the TV for a week! Maybe he'd let him win their next 20 video game matches!

But even if he did none of that, Billy decided he would humbly accept it if his bro gave him nothing but undying affection and praise at being in his presence again.

 _'Oh, it was soooo lame without you here, Billy! Oh, I never realised how mind-numbingly boring my life was without the incredible Billy Joe Cobra around! Oh, thank goodness I have you so I can live my life basking in your awesomeness an d talent and humility!'_ Billy imagined the gushing from a starry-eyed Spencer. He chuckled stupidly as he twisted his own arms around himself.

The elevator dinged and came to a stop, the doors opening to the ever familiar scene of the bedroom. Not a sock or poster was out of place. The window was open, letting a warm breeze in with the late-afternoon sun. The zombie-covered curtains clinked gently as they moved. The only other sounds came from outside as the fountain in the yard gurgled and the pool cleaner went about its duty with a rhythmic tick.

Billy torpedoed into the room and immediately homed in on Spencer, bursting with excitement to see the teen's face at his sudden reappearance. Billy was about to make Spencer the happiest kid in Beverly Hills. Maybe even the world, if Billy thought about it. After all, why not? How could any other kid in the world be any happier at seeing the greatest person who ever lived back in their room after being gone for such a long time?

However, Billy's dreams of surprising Spencer and being met with endless flattery was cut short when he spotted the boy in question.

Spencer was lying on his bed, fully clothed and on top of his covers, but fast asleep. It seemed whatever block of sun he had been lying in had already moved off the mattress and was now slowly creeping across the floor. Spencer seemed oblivious this though, looking perfectly comfortable lying curled on his side, pillows kicked carelessly to the floor.

Whatever surprise greeting Billy had planned to call out instantly died when he saw this. At first, he was simply taken aback. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting Spencer to do without him, but sleeping in the middle of the day in the sun like a pet cat was not it. His surprise was very quickly replaced by annoyance though, and a feeling of being insulted.

Here he was, the incredibly talented, awesome and humble Billy Joe Cobra, back from his harrowing ordeal with the dreaded ice maker and rushing to the side of his best bro only to find he was sleeping the day away without a single care in the world! Was this suppose to be some kind of joke?! Spencer was suppose to be quietly fretting, or pacing the room, or staring out the window in such a state of deep boredom he had forgotten how to form words properly! Not sleeping! This was an outrage!

Billy zipped to hover over him, poking him in the shoulder with a glare. “Hey. Hey! Brocentennial! Wake up, you toolbox!”

Spencer gave a groan and tried to bury himself deeper into his bed, hands curling around the blankets.

Billy made a drawn out noise, turning to float above him from the other side where he tried poking him again, this time in the face.

“Are you serious with this?! Dude, wake up! The heck is wrong with you, sleeping when I just pulled off the most amazing escape you could ever dream up?! You're being mega ultra lame, you know! Like, mega ultra _maxi_ lame! Wake up already!”

This time he got results. Spencer swatted at his hand sleepily, but shifted and gave a stretch all the same. He made a noise as his fingers cracked and he rolled onto his back, opening bleary eyes to see what had woken him up.

Billy floated above him, folding his arms and shooting him a dirty look. “Well it's about time! Dude, what the heck are you doing laying around here like you're trying to set a record or something?! Here I come expecting to see you all super happy to see me and instead I find you wasting your life away in the sun!”

Spencer blinked, frowned, then blinked again.

“Billy?” His eyes shot wide and he sprang to a sit. _“Billy?!”_

Billy rolled his eyes. “Too late to make it up to me _now_ , bromanof! I see where your priorities lie! Obviously my amazing story of survival and braving the elements isn't _important_ enough for you to-”

“Where have you been?” Spencer interrupted him.

It was not that the question was loud that stopped Billy mid-sentence. Spencer's voice was strangely even. But there was something in the tone of it. And when Billy fell silent and focused back on him properly, the expression on Spencer's face killed whatever annoyed comment Billy had been planning to say.

The colour had completely drained from his cheeks as Spencer stared, round eyed and with an almost frightening blankness, back at Billy. Billy blinked, breaking into a grin by reflex at the uncomfortable reaction.

“Hey, no worries, Spence. It's kind of a long and epic story. I say we get some chow and I can...”

His voice trailed off as Spencer's expression slowly changed. His gaze was locked on Billy's, but something in his eyes started to draw tight as tension visibly rose into his shoulders. His hands curled shut into fists.

“Where have you _been?!_ ” Spencer repeated, saying the words as if they were dripping with poison.

Billy, for once, was not really sure what to say. He stammered, trying to remember the recount of his amazing escape as he had planned to tell it only seconds ago. He waved his hands meaninglessly in front of him, trying to find the right words.

“Well I... I was gonna say, you see... But then I... and you...”

Spencer was by now biting down on his lip quite hard. Colour had rushed back to his cheeks as he flushed. Billy had barely gotten the non-sentence out before something in Spencer cracked. A spasm ran through him with a loud hitch of breath.

“I...” Billy got out before he was struck silent by this.

“Where _were_ you _?!_ ” Spencer demanded again, loudly this time. “ _Billy, where have you **been?!”**_

Billy had no time to answer as Spencer threw out his hands and shoved him away, causing the ghost to float a foot backwards in the air.

“Do you have any, _any idea_ what I've been going through?! Do you, do you have _any IDEA_?! _Do you... can you even... my God Billy, where WERE you?!”_

“I was.. I was in.. I mean,” Billy tried but Spencer did not seem to have any intention of letting him get a word in.

“ _You s-stupid, self-centered, MORON!”_ Spencer yelled. By now he was shaking with anger. _“How could you pull something like this?!"_

Billy felt a small flash of something white hot inside him, but he bit it back as hard as he could. He could not, however, stop himself from frowning at Spencer, his hands clenching. “Now hold on for one second there, Spence! I don't even know what-”

“ _You disappear for, I dunno, WEEKS without a word and then waltz in here like... like nothing happened while I've been losing my mind going completely nuts wondering what the flaming heck happened to my. **best. Friend!** ”_

“Well if you'd shut up maybe I can _tell_ you what the heck happened to me if it's such a big deal to you!” Billy snapped back.

“ _A big deal?!_ ” Spencer's hands flew up as he tugged at his own hair. _“A big_ _ **deal?!**_ _”_ He looked like he wanted to say more, but all he managed was a series of hollow, disbelieving laughs with no humour to them as he broke his gaze to stare at the floor.

“Look, it's not like it matters anyway!” Billy said, crossing his arms again and glaring at the younger boy. “Actually yeah... it matters kinda a lot because it's a totally awesome story of heroism and survival, but even so! You don't need to bite my head off, dude! You think I _wanted_ to get myself trapped in a stupid ice box for a month?!”

Spencer raised his head again, his fingers still laced into his hair.

“Not that I think I'm even gonna tell you the story anymore, though!” Billy turned his back to Spencer and stuck his nose in the air with a sniff. “If you're gonna be such a lame jerk about it, you don't _deserve_ to hear about the Great Cobra Escape! And sucks to be you because you can't even start to picture what I had to-!”

Spencer made a sound that, even before he realised what it was, struck Billy silent. He turned to look back at his friend over his shoulder, unsure if he had actually heard correctly.

Spencer stood, fingers in his hair, staring wide-eyed. His shoulders were trembling. Billy could actually see the kid's throat move as he gave a thick swallow. A small spasm shot through him with a hiccup as hot tears escaped him and started rolling down Spencer's cheeks.

“Woah!” Billy spun around to face him again, hands shooting up in defense. “Woah woah woah! C'mon bro, chill! No need to freak out on me! I wasn't being serious! I'll totally tell ya what happened! Honest!”

Spencer did not seem very relieved by this. His hands slipped from gripping his hair to wiping at his face once or twice before he seemed to give up and put his palms over his eyes.

It was Billy's turn to freak out now as the ghost hovered a little closer, chewing on a thumbnail while waving his other hand up and down frantically. “Dude dude dude! Seriously Spence, it's ok! I'm sorry I got mad, ok? No big deal, right? C'mon Brotato, ya gotta give me something to work with here! You're freaking me out!”

Spencer wiped at his face again and looked up to meet Billy's eye. Tears ran freely down his face as he sniffed and hiccuped. Billy stared back at him with something between panic and concern, having resorted to wringing his hands. Spencer stared back for only a moment before his face pulled and he, in one movement, squeezed his eyes shut, wrapped his arms around the ghost, and gave an open sob.

Billy was frozen in place, unsure what to do and a little afraid to move in all honesty. He had no idea how to handle this situation, or what this situation was, or why it was happening. Usually he found talking and being obnoxious fixed things back to the way he liked them, but so far every time he opened his mouth in this conversation it had seemed to make things worse. And yet, something inside him, very deep down, made him wrap his arms around Spencer in return. And when the boy gave another series of sobs, it made him squeeze him tight.

“You j-just.. dis-disappeared...” Spencer choked out, his grip tightening. Billy could feel his hands cling to the back of his shirt. “I.. I-I Looked... and looked... and looked... Y-you... You were j-just gone...!”

“Didn't mean to...” Billy mumbled almost to himself.

Spencer tried to say something else, but it came out in a meaningless jumble of sobs, noises and broken words. He gave up, pressing his face into the ghost's chest as if he was trying to bury into him. Billy bit his lip. Something in his stomach was starting to hurt, and there was a tightness growing in his throat.

“But it's ok now, right?” Billy tried, forcing himself to grin as he attempted to catch a glimpse of Spencer's face again. He did not like this. Not one tiny bit. He hated seeing Spencer mope on the best of days. Seeing his bro completely break down was, he was sure, the very worst thing he had seen in his life so far. Or afterlife. Or both. And the slow realisation that, even if it was sort of kind of an accident, it was technically his fault, was causing an unfamiliar emotion to bubble up inside him.

“Thought Hoover got you...” Spencer said brokenly somewhere into his shirt. “Thought you were in trouble... I- I thought... maybe you got hurt? Or-or lost or... I dunno! I didn't know what t-to think! I thought...” Spencer's hands twisted on the shirt's fabric as he tightened his grip. “Thought I'd.. I'd n-never see you again...” He buried his face again. “N-not... not ever...”

“Aw, c'mon Broseph,” Billy said, squeezing him. “You really think I'd ditch my best bud? Where the heck am I gonna go?”

Spencer said nothing. He clung to Billy as tightly as he could until his fingers ached.

Billy's chest was still and silent against his cheeks and forehead. He could feel the very slight sensation of ribs, but not completely. As if they were not really there. Billy felt cool in his arms. Perhaps not biting enough to be described as 'cold', but still unnaturally chilly. Spencer could feel the sensation of things that should be there. The cotton of Billy's shirt, the thicker material of his jacket, the dips in his back where his spine would be. But all of them felt somehow strangely removed. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, burying himself deeper against him. He sucked in a deep breath. Billy had no scent. Ignoring his insane stint over Valentines day and his personal line of body spray that littered one of the mansion's storage rooms, Billy himself had no distinct smell to him.

When Billy had seemingly fallen off the face of the earth, Spencer noticed this for the first time. Lying balled up on the bed, unable to sleep and thoughts running wild, he noticed there was nothing on the bed, or in the room, or even the house itself that reminded him of Billy's presence. At least, not on such a basic level. There had been nothing to look for when the days dragged on to make him trick himself into believing the ghost was somehow still walking this earth. No shirt, or blanket, or pillow for him to wrap around himself or cling to as days became weeks.

It was as if Billy had simply stopped existing.

As if reading his thoughts, Billy's arms squeezed him again, a little harder and more forcefully this time.

“Really, Spence? You think I'd ditch you like that?”

Spencer shook his head against him, but not really to say no. The truth was he did not know what to think. Billy sometimes threw tantrums and marched out the mansion with vows of never coming back, but Spencer never took these seriously. Billy never really meant it, no matter how mad he got. Spencer never thought Billy was someone who would seriously stomp out and never come back. But at the same time, Spencer knew that there always lay the faint possibility that Billy might not always get to _decide_ whether he gets to come back or not. He had never given it proper thought before. It was always just there in the back of his head, ignored and not focused on. Until now, when Spencer had finally found himself with both the time and the mindset to think this over seriously.

He felt Billy move against him. Hands rested on his shoulders and gave them a squeeze before they gently pushed him off of the late popstar. Spencer wiped at his face again on reflex, trying to clear his vision. He had managed to calm his breathing down to a few small hiccups and sucks of air, and at the very least he did not think he was actually crying any more. After a few moments he looked up to make eye contact again.

Spencer could not help but notice that Billy looked surprisingly collected. Freaked out maybe, but the fact that the melodramatic drama queen was looking at him with nothing else but worry and a slight frown impressed him a little.

Seeing he had the boy's proper attention, Billy sunk to his haunches, getting to eye-level with him. “I wouldn't just ditch you, man.”

Spencer gave a weak nod at this, pulling one of his sleeves up to rub at an eye.

“No really,” Billy insisted, hands still clasping the teen's shoulders. “Dude, they'd have to invent some new force of _nature_ to drag me away from your dorky butt! Seriously!”

“I know y-you didn't r-really mean it,” Spencer found his voice again, although he winced inwardly how pathetic he sounded. He felt like an idiot.

Billy shook his head rather violently. “No man, ya ain't hearing me! They'd have to rewrite like... _science_ or something to get me to leave you and not come back! Like some super secret magic science created by a wizard from another dimension! And probably not even that, cause that almost sounds too possible for them to do!”

“W-who's 'they'... exactly?” Spencer sniffed, half-heartedly.

“I dunno!” Billy said. “People who do these things! The ghost police! Wizards! Who cares?! They could be 12 foot space bears with laser swords and it wouldn't make a lick of difference! I ain't going anywhere, Brotilla! And if I ever _did_ go somewhere, I'll just drag you with me anyway! The Cobra doesn't fly solo! The Cobra doesn't _like_ flying solo! Flying solo sucks! How am I suppose to do stupid stuff all by myself?! I need the Spence-star with me to tell me what a moron I'm being! If I don't have the Spence-star with me to tell me I'm being an idiot it just feels wrong! It feels wrong and it sucks and it's super lonely! I don't like lonely, Spence! It makes me mopey and then I get moody and before you know it I'm watching chick flicks in my PJs with a bucket of raw cookie dough and crying about how the girl who can't find anyone to love her is totally just like my life!”

“Ok, I believe you,” Spencer said, trying hard to keep up with the diatribe, “D-dude it's not like I thought you _wanted_ t-to bail on me or anything. I was scared...” His voice trailed off. He gave a world-weary sigh that was much too old for him. “I was just scared...”

“Nobody makes BJC do what he doesn't wanna do,” Billy said with conviction, “And BJC's never gonna leave his favourite person ever here to be alone.”

“I make you do stuff you don't wanna do all the time,” Spencer pointed out, staring at the floor.

“Yeah, but you get a free pass,” Billy said. Somehow, he almost sounded serious.

Spencer turned to meet his eye again, almost afraid to believe him. Billy did not always think along the lines of real-world logic.

Billy's eyes were boring into him. He looked, for lack of a better expression, dead serious. It really looked like he believed in what he was saying with every ounce of his being. Something in Spencer's expression must have given him away because he felt Billy's hands squeeze his shoulders again.

“I swear,” Was all Billy added as something flickered across his face that Spencer was not familiar with.

Spencer was silent. He stared back at him for a while before he sunk slightly, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Billy's chest again. He felt the ghost ruffle his hair before wrapping his arms around him again.

“Don't cry anymore, ok?” Billy's voice said. “I'm really not cool with that. Like at all.”

“Sorry,” Spencer mumbled, pulling back again. He took a step backwards and slumped down on his bed. “God, I probably look like the most pathetic whiny baby ever, huh?”

“Nah,” Billy floated and sat down next to him, eyes still glued to his face. “You look more like a drowned rat.”

“Oh good,” Spencer said with a wet laugh.

“But if ya don't mind me being real for a sec, I really am sorry I freaked you out, Spence.” Billy added with a heartfelt tone.

“It's ok,” Spencer said with a deep breath. “I'm just... I'm really happy you're ok, Billy.”

“Sure, dude,” Billy nodded, “I'm still sorry I worried you though. For real.” He tilted his head down to look Spencer in the eye again. “You're ok right? Like... for real? No kidding?”

“Yeah, I'm ok,” Spencer said, this time with a more genuine laugh.

“For real?” Billy repeated, the idea of personal space apparently forgotten as he leaned against him. “For _really_ real?”

“Yes!” Spencer said, trying to push him off, “For really real. I'll be ok.”

“Ya sure, Brotein Shake? You don't exactly look that awesome.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that,” Spencer sighed, mussing up Billy's hair in a way he knew the popstar hated.

“No, I mean besides that,” Billy said, ducking away from his hand. “You look a bit like... uhm...” Billy looked around the room before pointing at one of Spencer's zombie figurines, “Kinda like that guy. But with less brain sticking out.”

“Honestly?” Spencer sunk a little, exhaling. “I haven't really been sleeping that great.”

Billy eyes practically shone with the puppy-dog-stare this got from him. “Oh bro, my bad! I didn't know you needed your beauty sleep! I thought you were just being lazy earlier! If you wanna catch some zeez I'm ok with that.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “It's ok, Billy. I think I'll survive.”

“No way!” Billy floated to a 'stand'. “You look like an extra in one of your own movies and you sound like that 80 year old dude who use to make my custom boots! You need some serious power-napping! And I mean STAT! Like right now!”

“You're gonna order me to take a nap?” Spencer cocked an eyebrow at him.

“You bet your butt!” Billy put his fists on his hips. “Look, I feel like a dog turd about this already! If I can get you to look a little less like I ruined your whole life and broke your heart then you better believe I'm gonna do what I gotta!”

“I don't really feel like it, man.” Spencer said. “I'm not a five year old that can just take naps on command or something.”

“Don't care,” Billy pointed at the bed. “Lie down or I'm getting a mallet!”

“If I do will you shut up?” Spencer sighed. “It's not gonna do any good though.”

Billy merely re-emphasised his pointing finger, tapping his foot on thin air.

Spencer gave in and lay back on his bed, although he had no intention of falling asleep again.

“That doesn't look super comfortable to me,” Billy criticized.

“I'm doing it, alright?” Spencer grumbled. “I told you, I'm not gonna go back to sleep.”

“You look like you could sleep for a year.”

“Yeah, but I'm not going to. I really don't feel like it.”

“I give you 5 minutes before you conk out.”

“I don't really _want_ to 'conk out'.”

“Why not, man? You look like death warmed up!”

Spencer gave a drawn out sigh. “I just don't want to, ok?”

“Sure you do,” Billy floated back into sight, blocking his view of the ceiling.

Spencer threw him a light frown. “I don't mean I'm not tired or whatever. I mean I don't _want_ to.”

“Yeah well, _I_ don't want you getting sick on me and making me feel even _worse_. So tough tabloids to what you wanna do, Bro,” Billy pulled a face at him. “Besides, I really don't see the problem here. Ya look exhausted, you sound exhausted, and if I go to the kitchen to grab a snack I bet you anything you'll be out like a light before I get back.”

“I'll go with you,” Spencer said, moving to sit up.

“I didn't mean I _am_ gonna grab a snack!” Billy said, “I just meant... you know!”

“Alright,” Spencer flopped back down. “But... let me know if you _do_ go to get something, ok?”

“I'm not going to,” Billy raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah but... if you do...” Spencer said with a yawn.

Billy did not reply. Spencer lay on his back staring at the ceiling for a while before he turned his head, trying to spot the ghost again.

Billy was sitting on the edge of the bed, legs crossed. He had obviously been watching the teen because as soon as Spencer turned to look at him he spoke.

“I'm not going anywhere, Broseph.”

Spencer gave a nod, but he rolled onto his side to face the ghost. He yawned again, sinking into the bed a little more. His eyes stayed closed and for a moment, Billy thought he had finally gone to sleep again, but after a moment his eyes snapped open and Spencer lifted his head off the bed, looking up at him again.

“Spencer,” Billy, turned to face him. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“I know,” Spencer mumbled, closing his eyes again.

A silent beat passed before Spencer felt the bed move. A moment later something cool pressed itself against his chest and wrapped around him. It pulled him in closer, squeezed him softly, and then lay relaxed around him. Something stroked up and down his back as he felt a jawline hook against the top of his head.

“Kinda gay, Billy,” He mumbled, not opening his eyes.

“Don't care,” Came the reply.

Spencer said nothing else, curling into him a little bit more. A hand found the edge of Billy's jacket and clung to it softly.

“I'm not going anywhere, Spence.” Billy said again, although he had no idea if the boy was still awake. “Never. Ok? Not without you.”

Spencer said nothing, breathing calmly against him.

Somewhere outside, a dog barked at a passing jogger. The fountain gave a sputter or air and water as its automatic timer turned itself off for the evening. A breeze tugged at the zombie curtains, smelling of sun-baked grass and chlorine from the pool. Soon it would cool down and become brisk, but for right now, it was still warm and gentle.

Billy listened to Spencer breathe, feeling the teen's pulse beat against him. He felt warm from sleep, unphased by the cool sensation of Billy's arms around him.

 

Billy closed his eyes. “Billy's never going anywhere without Spencer.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This took a lot longer to write than I meant it to. And it's almost 4 in the morning now. Sorry if you find any typos or grammar mistakes. Please let me know if you do, ok? I'd like to fix them.
> 
> I'm not super practiced in writing short stuff. Let alone things which are blatantly indulgent like this. But I don't think it's too bad. I hope you guys like it.
> 
> I'M SO LONELY IN THIS FANBASE!! ;O;
> 
> I had to look up how ice makers work for this. It was exciting...


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